BEN AND I MADE OUR way through the State Forest. I hadn't told Ben yet where we were going. I really didn't want to go back to the funeral home. It was creepy, and all signs were flashing that Neil was a Plutarium, given the tattoo on the back of his neck. But, if Sam were looking for Neil, he might've tried to go back to the funeral home. I didn't have a clue how to get there, though. It was dark when Neil drove Sam and me to it the other night. The only landmark I could remember was the park, but that wasn't going to help me.

"Okay, we're in Westport. Where to now?" Ben asked.

"Foster's Funeral Home," I replied.

"What?" Ben snapped his head towards me. "A funeral home? Why?"

I didn't know if Sam had told Ben anything about our hospital escape, how we hid in a funeral home for a night, or that we were running from a large man who turned out to be a vampire. Given his surprised reaction, it didn't appear so. Besides, it wasn't as if I were releasing any top-secret information. Heck, the sheer knowledge vampires existed certainly classified as top secret, and Ben already had that in his arsenal.

I sighed. "The night I landed in the hospital, a bunch of weird things started to happen. When Sam-"

"Jo, weird isn't the word for what happened to you."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't disagree, but Ben annoyed me when he cut me off in mid-sentence. He had done that a couple of times yesterday. "Anyway, when we were in the hospital room, Sam was trying to find a way we could get around the cop. Remember the one in the coma?"

He nodded.

"Well, we heard banging and grunting, so I peeked out the door and there was this tall dude with a blue bandana and pitch black eyes. He had the cop pinned up against the wall by the throat." I paused.

He didn't flinch. His attention was focused on the road, driving slowly. Then he tilted his head slightly, shifting his gaze from the road to me.

"Well, is that it?" he asked.

"Did you hear what I said? The guy that had the cop in a chokehold, the guy that put the cop in the coma was Jonah. The one you hit with a baseball bat at Crest and Skylark. Remember?

"You're kidding? You mean the vamp?"

I nodded.

The car slowed to a crawl. It was as if Ben were in a trance. I was learning Ben was moodier than an athlete on steroids.

I flinched. Was Ben on steroids? He had great physical form, sculpted arms, broad chest, not to mention that he was one of the best players on the high school baseball team with a batting average of .385, constantly hitting homeruns.

"What happen next?" he asked.

I peeked at the speedometer and the needle fluctuated between twenty and twenty-five miles per hour. Forty miles per hour was scrawled on the sign up ahead.

"Are you going to go any faster?" I asked, turning to survey the road behind us.

Ben checked the rearview mirror. "There's no one behind us. Go on."

I had to think for a second where I stopped. "Oh...then Sam and I somehow made it out and ended up in the hospital's boiler room. That's where we met Neil Foster. Sam was convinced Neil was the janitor at our school. Neil drove us to his parents' funeral home for the night. But, in school last week, I overheard two boys talking about a red truck and a dead body the police found in the forest." I paused to moisten my lips.

Ben looked over at me. "Whose body was it?"

"Not sure. But one boy mentioned the red truck the police found was registered to the janitor of our school. At least, that's what the police told his dad. I told Sam what I heard and he said we would talk about it at lunch. But we never made it to lunch. I assumed when Sam didn't show up in your dad's office, he was trying to find Neil. Then Webb showed up and you know the rest."

"My dad told you that Arlan is the janitor, not Neil."

"But that's what I don't understand. Sam knew Neil, like they were best friends. Sam even told me he trusted him."

Ben slapped his hand down on the console, making me flinch. "You know, Arlan has a couple of dudes that come in occasionally to help out when we have practice or a ballgame. Maybe this Neil guy is part of Arlan's crew."

"But it still doesn't add up. I get how Jonah fits into the picture, but I don't understand how Neil fits into it," I said, shaking my head. "Jonah was chasing us; Neil was helping us, or at least I think he was, but he seems to also be one of them."

"You think Sam went to the funeral home looking for Neil?" Ben asked.

"I don't know. It's the only place I can think of that Sam might go," I said as my body trembled.

"You okay?" Ben asked.

"Yeah. There was always something about the funeral home that gave me the creeps."

"Well, duh. It's a funeral home. You know, with dead people?"

I dropped my head in my hands. Just the mention of Sam and dead people didn't mesh well. I sensed Ben was trying to make light of the situation, but he had a streak of being a smart-ass as well.

"Hey. I'm sorry. I...didn't-"

I raised my head. "What if Sam is-"

"He's not. Don't even think that," Ben said. "We'll check it out and see what we find. By the way, is Neil part of the fang gang?"

"Huh?"

"You know." Ben sucked in his lower lip and pulled back his upper one, teeth protruding out. "Get it?"

I arched an eyebrow. "You're weird. I'm not sure. He has a tattoo on the back of his neck. It's the same symbol that Jonah has engraved on his ring."

"Tattoo? What tattoo?"

"Some type of symbol with the letters 'P' and 'L.' I think it stands for Plutarium."

"I still don't get the whole planet thing either." Ben flipped on the right blinker and he turned the car onto a side street. He brought the vehicle to a stop alongside an embankment of low brush and bushes.

"Are we lost?" I asked.

"Um...not exactly sure where you want me to go."

A roof of a house peeked out in the distance. The street had several tall maple trees, which dominated the wooded area along the side of the road. The hair at the nape of my neck rose as the trees rustled in the wind, and a shiver skidded up my arms. Odd.

I turned my head slightly and a black SUV approached from behind, slowly moving in our direction. My heart sank.

"What's wrong, Jo?" Ben asked. "Did you see a ghost?"

"You could say that. The SUV behind us," I flicked my thumb over my shoulder. "It looks like the same vehicle that I think followed Sam and me last week on the way to your house."

"There's a lot of people who own black SUVs," he said, adjusting the rearview mirror.

"That may be true," I said, letting out a deep sigh. But then why was my brain screaming at me, telling me to get the hell out of Dodge?

The SUV inched past us. I'm sure they could see us, but the dark-tinted windows kept us blinded from them.

As the SUV passed, Ben shifted into gear, looked in his side mirror and eased out of the parking spot, following behind the black SUV.

"See. Nothing to worry about. If they were vamps, they would've been out of that car so fast we'd be vamp meat," he said.

He may have been right, but still my heart hammered against my sternum.

"Come on, buddy, move," Ben called out. "Is this guy going to a funeral?"

I laughed nervously. I wondered if Ben realized what he had just said. Maybe we were going to a funeral and the car in front of us was leading us to it-maybe our funeral.

My pulse went into overdrive. I had a fleeting thought that we probably should've stayed with the Sentinels. They were irritating and intimidating, but their presence might be better than the potential nest of trouble we were driving into.

Ben tapped his right hand on the steering wheel. I imagined he was trying to release some of his nervous energy. I hadn't told him about the mysterious man in the hospital garage leaning against a black SUV. I had forgotten all about it until now. But what were the odds?

"You're still pale. Did you see something else?" he asked, looking in the rearview mirror.

"It's probably nothing," I said, shaking my head.

"Nothing? I recently found out that vampires are real. What else is there?" he asked, shifting his gaze from me to the road.

"I just remembered something from the night when Sam and me left the hospital. It involves the car in front of us."

Ben slammed on the brakes and the car jerked forward. Thank God for seatbelts.

"What the heck are you doing?" I shouted. "You trying to kill me?"

"You're telling me the car in front of us, or one like it, was also...what? At the hospital the night you left?"

I nodded. "There was a person in the hospital garage, leaning against a black SUV that night. I think the same person followed me and Sam the morning we took a cab to your house." I peeked at him through the corner of my eye.

His eyebrows lifted, practically reaching the top of his hairline.

"Um, Ben, do you think you should pull over?"

"So who are they?" he asked as the car accelerated slightly.

"I don't know. But it's good we're behind them. It may be nothing."

"Let's hope so."

Ben began tapping the steering wheel again, only this time, it was louder. Between his impatience and, I imagined, his nervousness, I prayed he wouldn't explode. He kept his gaze peeled straight ahead, staring at the vehicle in front of us.

We rounded a curve and a stop sign stood sentinel ahead. The leading car's brake lights illuminated, then Ben tapped on his brakes, almost stopping the car. It seemed he didn't want to get any closer to the mysterious vehicle than he had to.

I gnawed the inside of my cheek, praying the chills that skated up my spine and down my arms were all for nothing.

"Do you know how to get to the funeral home?" Ben asked with a shaky voice.

Not taking my eyes off the road, I said, "Not sure, but I don't think it's that far outside the State Forest. I remember some big park across the street from it."

"Park? You're kidding, right?" he asked, snapping his head toward me.

"No. Why?"

"There's only one park in Westport and it's in the worst part of town."

Bingo! I remembered thinking how Neil had dumped Sam and me in a trashy part of town with shady-looking people and abandoned homes.

"Do you know how to get there?" I asked.

Ben nodded. "Yep, but it's not a place I want to hang out in, even during the day. Gee, you're full of all kinds of scary info, aren't you?"

"It can't be any worse than what we've been through already," I said, with a bit of hesitation in my voice.

The SUV stopped at the stop sign ahead of us.

"Is there another road you can take?" I asked.

"There is. But not until we get past this stop sign."

I sucked in some air, waiting for the vehicle in front of us to move. My pulse beat rapidly. I prayed I was being paranoid.

"The area has a couple of gangs and there's a lot of drugs in that part of town. You think the vamps are bad? Let's hope we don't run into any of the gang members," Ben said, keeping his focus on the black SUV.

Great! It was just my luck that more drama would be added to the day.

Then their blinker indicated that they were making a right turn. The green sign on the corner read Fall River - 15 and an arrow pointed to the right. The black SUV turned and, as if someone had pumped a load of oxygen in the car, Ben and I released a huge sigh at the same time.

The Explorer rolled to a stop. Ben looked both ways before crossing over the intersection. Every ounce of tension disintegrated from my body and I let out another deep breath.

"See, it was nothing," I squeaked out.

"Maybe," Ben said as his body relaxed against the back of the seat.

As we made our way to the park, I couldn't help but think of Sam. We had to find him before Webb asked me again about my decision. I stared at the hood of the dented Explorer. My mind was a medley of confusion, fear and anticipation of what lay ahead. Several questions peppered my thoughts. Will we find Sam? Can I overlook the fact that vampires exist? Or that my father is a powerful vampire? If I don't change into a vampire, how much longer will I crave blood? Will the vampire puberty ever go away? Not only was I trapped in a world where I didn't belong, I was trapped inside myself, inside this pseudo vampire body complete with blood cravings and emotions I couldn't make sense of. I closed my eyes and inhaled, trying to release the rising tension that began to itch inside of me.

"Jo, we're almost there," Ben said.

I blinked a few times and rows of abandoned, boarded-up three story homes came into view, making for a gloomy landscape, exactly the way it was a week ago-with one exception. There were no homeless people sleeping on the porches. Today, the neighborhood was deserted. It looked as if we were driving through a ghost town. Not even the gangs Ben spoke of were anywhere in sight.

"The home should be up ahead," I said, pointing to my right.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked.

"Nothing, why?"

"Your eyes are black. You're not vamping out on me, are you?"

"No. I was thinking about Sam. My emotions just got the best of me, that's all. Besides, I'm not a vampire."

"It better stay that way, too," he replied.

He had no idea how much I agreed with him. "Let's focus on Sam." I didn't want to talk about me.

The park came into view on our left. The car slowed as Ben pumped the brakes, his head shifting, surveying his surroundings.

"This place gives me the willies," he said. "Where is everyone? It looks like we're crawling into some kind of horror movie."

"Just imagine sleeping in the funeral home. In this neighborhood," I added.

Ben parked the car on the street in front of the home. I slid out and stood staring at it, admiring the Victorian style with its wraparound porch and the pyramid pitched roof, which I didn't get the chance to see the other night. I had acquired an appreciation for architecture of old style buildings and homes thanks to Mr. Zee, my history teacher. He had spent the entire last semester teaching us the history of Fall River. Part of the class was dedicated to the different architectural styles of the homes and buildings that inhabited the area. Aside from the paint chipping off the shingles, the funeral home was the best-looking structure in the neighborhood.

"So what now?" Ben asked as he scanned the park. "It doesn't look like anyone's here."

I started walking up the path to the front porch when Ben grabbed me.

"What?"

"How're we getting in? What's our plan?" he asked with trepidation in his voice.

I wasn't thinking about any of that. I just wanted to get in there and check out the place. "Look, we don't have much time. We're only going in and looking around, okay?"

"I don't like this," he called out as he followed behind me.

Up to this point, Ben had been on an emotional rollercoaster, wavering between fear, anger, disgust and acceptance, ending with a bravado attitude toward the vampires, even standing up to the alpha vamp. But now his bravery turned into mush-about a funeral home?

The wooden steps creaked as I climbed. I stopped abruptly at the top. The front door was ajar and the scent hit me, as I stood frozen in place. My breathing became shallow and I reached up and covered my mouth and nose.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked as we stood side by side.

My gums began hurting and I winced. The drug addict in me took over and I wasn't sure I could control myself. The urge to drink blood overwhelmed me. Suddenly, I wanted Ben. I wanted to sink my teeth into him. My gums were throbbing, yearning to release the fangs I didn't have-or did I? I dipped my fingers into my mouth searching my gums, but nothing. Wet from the saliva, I wiped my hand on my jeans.

"Gee whiz, Jo. It looks like you're about to pass out." Ben threw his arm around my back. "Sit over there." He motioned to a loveseat on the porch.

I shook my head and slid out from under his arm. I needed to get away from him. While I didn't have fangs, I still didn't trust myself. "No, I'm fine. I mean, I'll be fine. Let's get this over with."

A puzzled look washed over him. "You sure? We don't have to do this."

Get a hold of yourself, I repeated silently in my head. But the smell of blood wafting out drove me crazy, drawing me inside. I wanted to scream, to run. How long did this pseudo vampire puberty last? It was a good thing I was asking myself that question and not Webb. I was afraid I wouldn't like his answer.

Propping up my courage, I walked into the funeral home, the smell of dried blood and decay washing over me. I sensed something happened in here recently.

The sound of Ben's heartbeat echoed as he approached from behind, his blood raging through his veins. I turned and the vein in his neck pulsed with every heartbeat. I stood deathly still, making sure I had control of myself.

"It stinks in here," he said as his voice became nasal.

He had no idea what the smell was doing to me.

"Why don't you check out the rooms down here and I'll check the rooms upstairs?" he said. "We'll meet back here in a few."

"No. I'll go upstairs." Before Ben could protest, I disappeared around the corner. The smell dissipated a bit as I climbed, taking the steps two at a time. My mind wandered, pictures of the body bags Dr. Vieira showed us flashed before me. I had a feverish feeling that some of those killings took place here.

Once at the top of the landing, I surveyed the hallway. Out of the three rooms, one had its door closed. I walked over to the white paneled aperture-the room Sam and I had slept in-stopping in front of it. I swallowed, grabbed the doorknob, then pushed the door in. The stench hit me like a tornado and I gagged, trying to catch my breath. The pungent smell of vinegar covered the underlying scent of blood.

I covered my nose, breathing in through my mouth as I looked around the room. The large assortment of books that had been neatly tucked into the bookshelves was now a cyclone of piles spread around as if someone were hunting for a lost treasure.

I walked over to one stack and knelt down. There was a book opened with its pages splayed. I picked it up with my free hand and turned it over. My eyes bulged out when I read the title-Vampire Genetics. I sat down on my heels and released the hold on my nose. Who the heck writes this shit? Vampires were one thing, but I wasn't aware that someone actually documented it. But, hey, what did I know? My knowledge and history of the vampire species was only one week old and that knowledge was a tiny speck on the radar.

I grabbed the book and stood up. I had to get out of here or I was going to puke. I grabbed my nose again and began to walk out when outside a car door slammed. Excitement stirred in me. Maybe it was Neil and he had Sam with him.

I ran over to the window, stopping short of it. What if it were Webb and his team? My detective work would be over. A curtain rod had come loose and the curtain panel hung at angle ready to fall off. What happened in here?

I tiptoed the rest of the way as if they were already in the house. I peeked around the panel and looked out, but didn't see any vehicle. I shifted my gaze out to the park where a few die-hard runners were jogging around the melted pond. Maybe I was hearing things. I shook my head a few times and turned to walk out when I spotted something familiar.

I pinched my eyebrows together, walking over to the red couch. A smile emerged on my lips as I remembered Sam trying to tease me, pretending there was blood on my neck, as if a vampire had bit me. As it turned out, it had been the red velvet lint from the couch.

My smiled faded as I bent over and gasped.

A red t-shirt lay balled up on the couch. I dropped the book and picked up the t-shirt. I shook it and held it up. Dried blood splattered the front just below the words Got Milk? Tears streamed down my face. Sam was here, or at least had been here. This was the t-shirt he wore to school yesterday. Was he still here? I turned on my wobbly heel and stopped cold.

"What the fu...What are you doing here?" I asked as my eyes widened.

"Is that any way to greet your doctor?" Dr. Case said with a sinister smile.

My feet were frozen in place and so was my tongue.

"I've noticed you're healing well." His gaze roamed my body. "Your stitches are gone. I have to say I do good work."

I touched the newly formed scar on my left cheek, and returned the gesture, sizing him up as he stood leaning up against the doorjamb. He was wearing blue jeans and a black button down shirt, which hung loosely over his jeans. The last time I saw him he had on one of those surgeon caps. Today, his dark, wavy brown hair hung loosely just above his ears and his brown eyes were alight with pleasure.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I'm here for you," Dr. Case replied with maliciousness to his tone.

"Get in line," I blurted out. I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but there was a tingling of menace prickling my skin.

"I see you found something?" His thin lips were curled at the edges.

"Do you have something to do with this?" I held up Sam's t-shirt.

His half smile indicated he did. What was Dr. Case's role in all this?

As if the trees parted and the light shined through, I remembered a tattoo on the back of his neck. I couldn't see all of it when I first met him, but a puzzle piece snapped into place.

"You're one of them." My body tensed and I squeezed Sam's shirt.

"You need to be more specific, Jo," Dr. Case said as he pushed off the doorframe, stepping inside.

I edged back and my left foot slipped. I fell onto a pile of books, straight down on my butt. Books, picture frames and boxes surrounded me as I tried to stand up. But the box I used as an anchor was too squishy and collapsed, causing my right hand to puncture through. Panic set in.

I tried to pull out my hand but Dr. Case yanked me by the left arm. The force of his strength sent fear whistling through my veins. He wasn't helping me; he was hurting me.

Why did I always get myself into this kind of mess? Why wouldn't people leave me alone? As he pulled me out of the mountain of books, my hand came free, the cover falling. I swung my arm around and punched him in the stomach.

His smug smile was gone, replaced with a murderous expression. He squeezed my arm tighter and dragged me towards the door.

"Where's Ben?" I screamed.

"He's not going to hear you," Dr. Case said through gritted teeth.

All the blood rushed to my feet. "You better not-"

"Or?" He stopped dragging me, his hand still wrapped around my left arm as he glared at me. "You and me are going downstairs to have a chat. If you stay calm, we'll get through this relatively quickly."

I had no clue what he wanted. Whatever it was sounded ominous. I had to think of something quickly. He could be part of the Plutariums, but did that mean he was a vampire? I couldn't be sure.

"Are we going to stay here and ogle each other or are we going downstairs to dance?" I asked.

"You really are a smart ass. Figures for a teenager." He began pulling me again, only this time his grip was slightly weaker.

I jerked away my arm, and with lightning speed, he grabbed hold of my throat. Maybe he is a vamp.

I clawed at his hands, but his grip only tightened. This wasn't working. So I did the one thing that worked for me before with Cliff and Blake. I jabbed my knee into his crotch, not once, but twice. He released me immediately, planting his hands between his legs.

"You little bitch," he gasped.

I ran out of the room and down the stairs, gagging, trying to get oxygen back into my lungs. Once at the bottom I peered around the banister, still massaging my neck. The door to the basement was ajar. A dank smell wafted through the crack and my stomach lurched.

My Spidey sense warned me not to go down there, but I had to find Ben.

I stepped off the last stair and walked under the stairwell. I looked up at the ceiling as if it were a cross and muttered, "God help me."

"God isn't going to help you."

I pivoted and Dr. Case stood at the base of the banister. I was screwed. The only exit was the basement, unless I kicked him in the balls again and ran out the front door. I didn't move as I weighed my options. Did the basement have an exit to the backyard?

"Go ahead. Run. Run down there." He flicked his chin towards the basement door.

I stepped backwards, eyes trained on him. I took in a breath, turned, picked up my right foot and ran, stopping abruptly at the top step-the only step. I shrieked, grabbing onto the sawed off railing, which prevented me from plunging to my death.

Where were the rest of the stairs? A light glowed from below. Ben's voice echoed, sounding muffled. How did he get down there?

Before I could react, Dr. Case wrapped one arm around my waist and the other around my mouth, dragging me down the hallway into the front viewing room. He opened the door and threw me in, sending me stumbling across the floor. I landed inches from the now open coffin. Shit!

I quickly crawled in the other direction, trying to get as far away from the ghastly thing. I rested my head against the sill of the stained glass window, thinking about my next move. I had no recourse as Dr. Case jammed a chair under the doorknob. It was Dr. Case and me, and I sensed we were going to dance.

I stood up and pushed off the wall when he stalked toward me.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Jo. I only want to talk."

"Then talk," I said as I stepped around him, making my way to the other side of the room.

"You do want to tango. Interesting," he said as he followed me.

"I'm not sure what a Plutarium wants with me. I have nothing to offer." I kept dodging him, slipping from his grip every now and then. It was like we were playing tag in the schoolyard.

"So, you figured it out, did you?" he asked.

"Figured what out?" I didn't want to give away how much I knew.

He stopped in the middle of the room, put his hands in his jean pockets and stood there. He stared at me intently, his gaze menacing.

I rested against a sidewall, waiting for him to make a move.

He cocked his head to one side and said, "You really do look like him."

Was he talking about Sam?

"Of course we do. We're twins," I shot back.

Okay not identical in features, but we shared a lot of the same qualities. Our hair was the same color and texture. Our lips were the same. We had the same nose and, as I learned last week, we had a lot of the same physical changes going on. The only difference that I was aware of other than gender was the color of our eyes.

"I wasn't talking about Sam. I was talking about your father."

My jaw dropped. Why was the common thread always my father?

I slid down the wall, all my muscles weak and dropped my head in my hands.

Who didn't know my father? I wanted to raise my hand like a little schoolgirl and shout, I don't know my father. Am I the only one?

My desire to kill or mangle my absent dad grew stronger as the hours and days passed. I raised my head and Dr. Case towered over me with his hand extended.

"Get away from me," I snapped.

"I want to help you. I know he abandoned you. I can tell by your expression that you're not fond of him either."

"You don't know shit."

"I'm not playing cat and mouse with you anymore." Dr. Case yanked me up. "I don't have time for this." He let go of me. Within a second, he reached around my waist with his right arm then dropped his left arm, reaching under my knees and lifted me up as if he were carrying me over the threshold on our wedding night.

"Put me down." I squirmed, trying to get free as he carried me to the coffin. Was he going to put me in there? "There's no way I'm getting in that," I shouted.

He positioned my body over the coffin, bent down and placed me in it. The casket had two covers independent of each other to allow one part to cover the bottom half of the dead person or, in my case, the live one. Dr. Case closed the bottom half and knelt down on the makeshift altar in front of it.

"You're fucking crazy." I sat up and grabbed onto the closed lid, struggling to open it. "Get me out of this thing right now!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Dr. Case rose, pushed me back down, reached over me and placed his hand on the top cover. With one hand on the lid and his other hand on my chest, he said, "I'll close this and walk away. I just want to talk."

"Fuck you!"

"You leave me no choice. Besides, it will be better this way-tit for tat." Then he lowered the lid.

"No. Don't!" I begged. "I'll listen. What did you mean by tit for tat? Please, Dr. Case, open the lid."

He raised the lid slightly and glared down at me. "This is revenge for your father killing my sister," he said, and as he released his hand, the lid slammed shut.

"You're an asshole. I'm going to kill you," I shouted, but my voice was muffled.

"Keep talking. Expend all your air. It'll make for a quicker death."

I lay in the dark, satin enclosure, panic setting in. My body shook uncontrollably as my claustrophobia kicked in. I took the deepest breath I could, tears streaming down my face. This was my father's fault. Everything bad in my life was a result of something my father did: foster care, vampires and now this crazy doctor who wanted revenge.

I hated the man responsible for me being born.

"Dr. Case? Dr. Case? Are you out there? I'm sorry," I called out. I closed my eyes and listened.

Only silence. Dead silence. Did he leave?

I banged and kicked hoping he was still in the room. I screamed several times, the sound muffled by all the fabric inside. I didn't know what to do.

"Stay calm," I muttered.

The more I tried to stay calm, the more my heart rate sped up. It was as if my heart were about to fly out of my chest, sprinting to the finish line.

"Please, God, let me get out of here. I've been a good girl. It's the bad people around me who treat me like this. Please help me," I said into the dark, morbid coffin.

My breathing became shallow and my eyelids were getting heavy.

I didn't want to die before I found Sam.